Last Chance Mate: Sawyer

by Anya Nowlan

  Before Naomi could answer, one of the paramedics came back, hopping into the ambulance and waving Naomi out of the way.

  “She’s getting worked up again. We need to get her to the hospital,” the man said, gently prying Melanie’s fingers off Naomi’s shoulders.

  Naomi stood, but grabbed onto Melanie’s hands before getting shooed away.

  “You’re not crazy,” she told her, but Melanie didn’t look that convinced. “I’ll meet you at the hospital, okay?” she added, earning only a weak nod from Melanie.

  And then, before she could even fully process what had just happened, she was whisked back outside the vehicle, and the ambulance drove off, leaving her standing in the middle of the street.

  Hill approached her once again, looking somewhat concerned.

  “What did she say?” he asked, and Naomi seriously contemplated not replying, just turning on her heel and getting back in her car.

  But she had a feeling that wouldn’t go over well, and it would do no good for Melanie if the police thought Naomi was somehow covering for her. Melanie had said nothing incriminating, but evading the detective’s questions might make the man think she had.

  “She said her husband’s killer was a monster,” Naomi said plainly, watching for Hill’s reaction.

  He didn’t look surprised.

  “Yeah, that was what she told the responding officers, too,” he admitted. “That he had two faces or something like that. Trauma does odd things to the mind.”

  Naomi gritted her teeth. Now wasn’t that a line she had heard more times than she would have liked.

  “Is that all?” she asked brusquely, turning toward her car.

  “For now,” he nodded, before heading back to the house.

  Letting out a long breath, Naomi leaned against her car, attempting to get her bearings. When she had gotten up that morning, she had not anticipated ending up in the middle of this kind of chaos.

  Poor Melanie, she thought, blinking away tears. She truly loved him…

  The uniformed officers were done with the crime scene tape, and walking to their squad car just as Naomi opened the door to her Toyota. With the detective and the paramedics gone, it was eerily quiet, and she couldn’t help but try and eavesdrop.

  “Crazy, man,” one of the men said, shaking his head. “I almost lost my lunch.”

  “It’s like a melon exploded or something,” the other guy replied, incredulity in his voice. “Except the melon was the poor dude’s head.”

  Naomi got in her car, mostly because she didn’t want to fall flat on her face when her legs gave out. Melanie’s words rang in her head – a terrible, terrible monster. Gripping the steering wheel, Naomi tried to keep herself from shaking as the face of the creature that killed her parents popped up in her head and wouldn’t leave. Then, the image of him squeezing her father’s head…

  Naomi knew that she would likely be the only one to ever believe Melanie. But she would be damned if she was going to stand aside and watch the cops fumble this investigation like they did with her parents.

  What Melanie had seen was real, as real as it had been when Naomi herself had witnessed it. It wasn’t a figment of her imagination. Something had killed her parents and if she was right, that same something had now killed Melanie’s husband.

  Shoving her keys in the ignition, Naomi pushed aside her fear, and focused on building determination for the truth, instead.

  I’m going to get to the bottom of this, one way or the other.

  Four

  Sawyer

  Downing some aspirin, Sawyer washed it down with coffee as he sat behind his kitchen table, his short, dark hair still wet from his shower. He had texted Hill to see how the Clement investigation was going, but hadn’t heard back, which bothered him more than he would have liked to admit.

  But he was just a consultant now, so he couldn’t expect to be always kept in the loop. He had made his peace with that, or at least so he had thought.

  Who am I kidding? I haven’t made peace with anything, he thought, shaking his head as he threw a glance at his living room table, filled with empty bottles again.

  But before he could sink down a hole of self-deprecation, there was a buzz at his door. Frowning, Sawyer got up from his chair and strolled over, pressing the button to the intercom.

  “Yeah?” he asked gruffly.

  “Um, hello,” a female voice echoed out. “Is this Sawyer Blake? The private investigator?”

  Sighing, Sawyer pressed the button again.

  “I’m not an investigator anymore. Have a good day,” he said, cutting off the woman’s rushed ‘wait’ when he released his finger.

  With his website saying the business was closed and the telephone line for Blake Investigations disconnected, Sawyer had hoped these kinds of mix-ups wouldn’t happen. And how did this woman get his private address, anyway?

  What little he’d heard of her voice made him want to hang onto the call, but that had to be the hangover talking.

  It didn’t matter. She would have to find another guy to take pictures of her husband and his secretary, or whatever the reason for her visit was. Sawyer already had his day planned out – a run in the woods, and then a trip to the liquor store.

  It was becoming routine by now, but hey – if it worked, it worked.

  The intercom buzzed again, and again, and then a third time, but Sawyer just ignored it. The consultant gig was enough to pay his rent and keep him just the right amount of busy. Sawyer didn’t need complications in his life, and if this lady really needed help, she would find someone else.

  So he sat back down, sipping what was now lukewarm coffee, and read the news on his iPad. Staying away from the crime section, he focused on the sports scores instead, and told himself he was doing the right thing by staying out of the private investigation business.

  Who needs a drunk for a PI, anyway?

  But he stilled in his chair when someone suddenly knocked on his door.

  “What the…” he muttered to himself, perking up his ears.

  A single heartbeat thudded on the other side of the door, faster than normal, and Sawyer walked over. It was fast, nervous, like a trapped bird’s. He felt an odd desire to soothe her nervousness, despite wanting her nowhere near his damn door.

  “This better not be who I think it is,” he called out, standing near his door.

  “Please, just hear me out,” a female voice that was familiar to him now said.

  It still sounded damn good.

  “How did you get inside the building?” Sawyer asked, frowning to himself.

  “I told your neighbor I was your girlfriend,” the woman replied, a hint of guilt in her voice.

  Sawyer sighed to himself. What was the point of locks when his neighbors just let anyone walk in? He didn’t get any visitors, and now all of a sudden a girlfriend shows up? Then again, he wasn’t friendly enough with his neighbors to expect them to know what kind of visitors he would or wouldn’t have.

  “Please,” the voice said, and Sawyer could easily identify the note of desperation in it.

  Perhaps it was that all too familiar anguish that made him crack the door open, or perhaps he felt stupid talking to a door… Whatever the reason, he now came face to a face with a stunning blonde, wringing her hands in his hallway.

  His wolf perked up at the mere sight of her, even as he tried not to stare at her pretty face. She looked just like she sounded and once again, Sawyer got to wrestle with the urge to make whatever troubles she had go away as fast as he could.

  “Thank…” The woman started to say.

  “I’m not an investigator anymore, lady,” he cut her off.

  The woman blinked at him for a moment, and for just a split second, he felt bad about being so terse. But he reminded himself it was not his job to deal with everyone else’s problems anymore.

  “My name is Naomi Moore,” she said, giving him a brief smile and sticking her hand through the open door.

  Reluctantly,
Sawyer reached out and shook it, noting how soft her skin was. His wolf almost leapt out of his skin at the contact, and he willed the beast to back down. Had it really been that long since he had touched a woman that a handshake was all it took for his wolf to jump on its hind legs?

  “Sawyer Blake, but you already know that,” he said dryly, pulling his hand away.

  “Look, I know you shut your business down, and I’m very sorry to bother you at your home like this, but I really need your help,” she replied, looking at him with her doe eyes.

  Sawyer studied her for a moment. Her blonde hair was shoulder-length, glossy, but looked to be unbrushed. Her nose was straight and narrow, her cheekbones prominent, and there seemed to be bags under her emerald green eyes.

  Dressed casually in jeans and a slightly wrinkled white button-up, she managed to look modest, despite the way her amazing curves filled out her clothes. And she also looked exactly like someone who had not slept the previous night.

  It didn’t do anything to take away from how gorgeous she was, but as a man who used to get paid for noticing things, Sawyer took note of her slight state of dishevelment.

  “I can give you the numbers of other investigators in the area that I know are…” Sawyer started to say, but she shook her head.

  “You’re the best,” she insisted. “I heard of your reputation even before…” she trailed off, glancing away for a moment before looking back at him. “And I know that you’re a shifter,” she added, watching for his reaction. “And that’s important.”

  Sawyer arched a brow at her. Naomi looked like someone who could only bring trouble his way, but that also meant he found her intriguing. A distraction, maybe? Sighing, he opened the door and gestured her inside. They both came to a stop at the edge of his living room.

  “And why is that important?” he asked, crossing his arms.

  Naomi was tall herself, standing at around 5'9", but she was dwarfed next to him. That must have caught her eye as well, as she looked him up and down, seeming somewhat awed by his 6'5" frame. Sawyer had to almost physically restrain himself from the desire to cover the distance between them and see how much smaller she looked when he towered over her, ready to grab her in his arms.

  “Because what I need help with… It might seem a bit out there,” she admitted, wrinkling her nose. “But as a man that turns into a wolf…” she trailed off, a slight blush on her cheeks.

  It wasn’t exactly a secret that Sawyer was a werewolf, so he wasn’t shocked Naomi knew about it. Most people just didn’t bring it up so blatantly. Shifters had integrated into human society well enough, but many people still felt awkward bringing up the topic of people being able to turn into animals at will.

  “Out there,” Sawyer repeated, earning a nod from Naomi. “Like, alien abduction out there? Because I cannot tail a space ship.”

  Who would have guessed it would be a crazy lady that showed up uninvited and lied her way to my door? he groaned internally. And of course she had to be gorgeous.

  “I’m not crazy,” Naomi said, narrowing her eyes at him.

  “Isn’t that what crazy people say?” Sawyer countered.

  That seemed to miff her some.

  “Look, my friend’s husband has been murdered,” she started, and Sawyer threw up his hands.

  “Whoa, now. That sounds like something the police should already be handling, unless you’re asking for me to help you get rid of a body,” he said.

  Now it was Naomi’s turn to cross her arms as she glared at him. Unluckily for her, she didn’t manage to look very intimidating.

  “The police are handling it,” she replied, an edge to her voice. “But they don’t know what they’re dealing with.”

  “And you do?” Sawyer questioned.

  “Yes,” she squared her shoulders. “I think a demon killed Melanie’s husband,” she stated, staring him right in the eye.

  Sawyer sighed to himself. That was out there, all right. He had to give Naomi points for originality, at least. He could honestly say it was the first time someone turned to him for demonic problems.

  And people wonder why I quit being a private investigator…

  Five

  Naomi

  Standing in a large, airy apartment, decorated tastefully in gray and white, Naomi did her best to stand her ground as Sawyer Blake looked at her with tired eyes, marked with a dash of pity in them. Had it been a smart idea to insist on talking to a strange man at his apartment, especially given how ill-mannered he was?

  Probably not. But Naomi didn’t have a lot of options at the moment. All she knew was, this man had been called the best PI in Arizona at one time. Glancing over at the pile of alcohol bottles in the living room, though, that might have no longer been the case.

  I can’t do this on my own…

  “Look, Ms. Moore,” Sawyer started.

  “Naomi,” she interjected.

  “All right, Naomi,” he said. “I don’t know what you expect me to do here. Demons aren’t exactly my area of expertise. Have you tried talking to, I don’t know, a priest?” he asked, running a hand over the back of his neck.

  Naomi looked at him, trying to assess if the man was making fun of her or not. Broad-shouldered, with sharp, chiseled features and a square jaw, he certainly looked serious enough.

  His dark eyes bore into hers, and for a moment, it felt as if he could see right through her. Naomi’s heart beat faster as she stood her ground, trying to see Sawyer as a means to an end, instead of a man.

  Because, oh boy, he was a lot of man.

  “I don’t need an exorcism,” she argued, exasperated. “I need to find the thing that killed my friend’s husband and make sure it doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

  “And exactly how are you going to do that?” he questioned, giving her a once-over.

  Feeling hot under his gaze, Naomi started pacing.

  “I don’t know yet,” she replied. “But I’ve studied demons,” she said, nodding to herself.

  Saying that out loud, she realized how out of her depth she really was. Sure, she had studied lore and myth, but how much of that was based on actuality, and how much was it uneducated people trying to reason away terrible things?

  All of the books she had read, all of the papers she had written… And she was still almost as much in the dark as anyone else.

  She stopped pacing when Sawyer spoke again, his tone a little softer this time.

  “I’m sorry about what happened to your friend and her husband,” he started. “But as I’ve said, I’m not an investigator any more. And even if I were, this isn’t really a case for me. I think it would be best if you left now. And let the police do their jobs.”

  “I told you,” Naomi snapped, the overwhelming tension inside her bubbling to the surface. “The cops are useless.”

  “I think it’s best you left now,” Sawyer said evenly. “I can’t help you.”

  Defeated and embarrassed she let her emotions take over like that, Naomi nodded, hanging her head.

  “I’m sorry for bothering you,” she said quietly, before turning to head for the door.

  She had been insane to think she should lead with the truth, anyway. Maybe if she had just said she wanted to help catch David’s killer… But then again, it would be unfair to drag someone into this without giving them all of the information.

  Wordlessly, Naomi let herself out, and headed down the stairs to the parking lot. Melanie would most likely be released from the hospital soon, and she needed to be there. She had already spent most of the night in the waiting room, but Melanie had been sedated, so Naomi hadn’t gotten a chance to see her friend again.

  She’s going to need all the support I can give her. I just hope it’s enough.

  Naomi walked into Melanie’s hospital room with a heavy heart. She wanted to be there for her friend, but she also knew whatever she did, it would not bring back David. All that would really dull the pain would be time, but that would be a cold comfort for Melanie.


  When Naomi stepped inside, Melanie looked to have just finished getting dressed in the clothes she had brought over earlier. Naomi’s sweats were far too big for Melanie’s petite frame, the pant legs dragging on the floor and the sleeves hanging past her wrists, but it was still better than being stuck in hospital clothes.

  And since Mel’s house was still a crime scene, that was the best Naomi could do.

  “Hey,” she said quietly, getting Melanie’s attention.

  Melanie turned around, looking pale and drained, with red rims around her eyes. But there was a clarity to her Naomi hadn’t observed the previous night.

  “Hey,” Melanie replied, giving her a wavering smile. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Of course,” she replied, taking a step closer. “Whatever you need, I’m here. And you’re coming home with me.”

  Sensing Melanie was about to argue, she carefully placed her hands on Melanie’s shoulders.

  “I already have the couch set up, and I am not taking ‘no’ for an answer,” she said, staring right into Melanie’s eyes. “You do not have to go through this alone.”

  Melanie just nodded, her eyes shiny. They stood there in silence for a long moment before Melanie spoke.

  “He’s really gone,” she all but whispered, and Naomi could feel her heart break for her friend.

  “But you’re still here,” Naomi replied, holding back her own tears. “And I know it might not feel like it now, but you’re going to get through this. This is an awful thing that happened, but you will come out on the other side.”

  Melanie didn’t look convinced, and Naomi couldn’t blame her. There was no quick fix for grief.

  “I’m ready to go,” Melanie nodded, choosing to move on to an easier topic.

  Logistics. We can do that, Naomi decided.

  Naomi gave Melanie’s shoulders a quick squeeze, and together, they walked out into the hallway. Melanie kept her head down as Naomi guided her to the parking structure, her red hair falling to cover her face.

  Getting her away from curious looks as fast as she could, Naomi almost let out a sigh of relief once they were both finally in her car. They drove over to her house in silence. Melanie had a lot to process, and Naomi knew well enough this was not the time for small talk.